


That Ass, Though

by MaraMcGregor



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Background Relationship, Bruises, Love Bites, M/M, Marty has dad jokes, Sebastien St. Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraMcGregor/pseuds/MaraMcGregor
Summary: The Zimmermann booty is a thing of glory.





	That Ass, Though

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @omgpieplease for the wonderful artwork!!!! The fully shaded pic is in the beginning. Check the end for the flat version. They are both absolute perfection.

 

 

Jack tried to be cautious in the locker room. He knew none of the guys would give him a hard time. The couple of teammates that were problematic kept quiet, more from fear of Tater pounding them into the boards during practice than anything else. But, still. It was a constant underlying worry that drove him to distraction. He knew how to be perfunctory. Rans and Holster chirped him mercilessly over his purely professional ass slaps. He had to be. The last thing he wanted was for his team to become uncomfortable around him.

But today, today he was being careful for an entirely different reason. On any typical day after practice, he would take his 5 minute shower, wrap his towel efficiently around his waist, and spare no time in getting dry and dressed. He would occasionally get distracted while getting his undershirt on, but that was a far more comfortable moment than when he was trying to efficiently exchange his towel for his underwear. When he was in Juniors, he had made the mistake of trying to dry off in the shower and put his underwear on there. That had made him stand out in all the awkward ways he had hoped to avoid.

The Falcs all knew he was bi and that he was dating Bitty. They knew, mostly didn’t care, and mostly adored Bitty to the moon and back. But, that was exactly why he couldn’t afford even the smallest of slip ups. He held his towel tightly around his waist, ever so slightly higher than he normally would. But, it was for naught.

Tater’s voice boomed across the locker room. “Hey, Zimmboni! I know I don’t hit you that hard!”

Jack straightened his spine and spun around, putting his ass to his locker.

Thirdy bumped Tater’s side with his shoulder. “Did you mark up that legendary ass, Tater? That’s a crime against the hockey gods. You’re gonna need to ask the ice for forgiveness before the next game.”

Tater waved his arms in front of him, crossing the idea out of the air. “No, no, no! I don’t mess up glorious Zimmboni ass.”

Marty sidled up next to Jack. “You okay, kid?”

“Yes. Yes, I am perfectly fine. Not injured or anything.” Jack tugged at the corners of the towel, trying to figure out how to cover up as much of his ass and thighs as possible.

“No. I see bruise. Very large and purple,” Tater insisted.

Jack paled and sat down abruptly, using the bench to prevent his towel from riding up. Unfortunately, he plopped down with too much force and winced when his right cheek met the wood.

Marty frowned. “Okay. It was funny before. But, you are actually hurt. Let’s get you to the trainer.”

“No!” Jack yelped.

And that drew the full attention of the rest of the team.

“I swear. I don’t need the trainer. It’s nothing.”

Marty placed a hand on his shoulder and used his best dad voice, “Kid, you can’t sit down without being careful, Tater swore he saw a bruise.” Marty sighed. “If you don’t want to see the trainer, at least let me see for my own peace of mind. If it’s nothing serious, I’ll let it drop.”

Jack felt his whole body blush. He covered his face with his hands and cursed to himself. “Fine. But, just you.”

Marty stood and dragged Jack with him. Jack snagged his shorts from the top of his bag, determined to at least come back to the locker room decently covered.

Once they were alone with the door shut, Marty fixed him with the sternest Captain glare he could muster and glanced down at the towel still around Jack’s waist.

“This doesn’t leave the room, Marty.” Jack felt his stomach flutter in the beginning stages of panic. “Promise me.” He knew his voice trembled, but he couldn’t help it if he tried.

Marty nodded and waved one hand, indicating Jack should get it over with.

Jack closed his eyes, turned around, and let one side of the towel drop, bunching the rest at his front.

“Is that ... is that a bite mark?”

Jack whined, high in his throat.

Marty giggled briefly and snorted as he tried to stop. “So. I’m guessing little Bits is a biter?”

“ _Crisse._ ” Jack dropped the towel and fumbled his way into his shorts.

“I’m sorry! It’s just … that’s a helluva mark, kid.”

Jack turned to face Marty, arms crossed in front of his chest. “We have 3 days before our next game. So, it’s not like it’s a big deal.”

Marty smiled and wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulders. “I’ll tell the guys to lay off. What you get up to with your partner is no one’s business but yours. I remember when I first started dating Gabby. You should have heard the chirping I got from the guys when she left claw marks down my back.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief, “ _Thank you_.”

“Think nothing of it.” Marty pulled him in tighter and gave him a wink. “Besides, it looks like your boyfriend has good taste!”

Jack groaned and shoved Marty off with a laugh.

The locker room chatter died off as they both came back in. Marty waved the curious off, “It’s nothing to worry about. Tater didn’t offend the hockey gods. The precious Zimmermann ass is in good condition to play the Rangers.”

The guys cheered and finished packing up for the day, slowly streaming out of the practice arena.

Jack was going to guilt trip Bitty into making him maple-crusted apple mini pies to compensate for his afternoon. He smiled to himself. Maybe he could convince Bits to at least put any marks in a less embarrassing place. He wouldn’t mind being chirped by the guys for a hickey on his throat or scratches down his back. He might even be able to convince Bits to do that after they beat the Rangers. He smirked as he pulled on his shirt. Yes, marks from congratulatory sex were something he’d be happy to flaunt.

 


End file.
